


Never Normal

by Vampykitty_kun



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Abduction, Awkward Conversations, Birthday, Drinking & Talking, Gift Giving, Kidnapping, News Media, Rope Bondage, Underage Drinking, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampykitty_kun/pseuds/Vampykitty_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So… what does a guy who could theoretically buy anything for himself want for his Birthday?”</p>
<p>It was at this point that Tim decided he most definitely should have opted for staying in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Normal

Tim awoke at precisely 3:15pm, muscles aching, and his mind protesting the sudden exit of deep sleep. It was with great reluctance that he pulled himself out from beneath the sheets and shuffled over to the bathroom, facing the inevitable start of his day.

When all was said and done, he met Pru in the kitchen, and did not bat a lash as she set a large cup of coffee at his favored seat at the table. These days he found her lurking in his home more often than not. Frequently he wondered why she had stayed in Gotham, _where_ exactly she had set up shop since he had yet to discover that small detail despite exhaustive effort, and even wondered at times if there were strings attached… if Ra’s had simply _planted_ her to keep an eye on him.

He was not sure he wanted an answer to that one…

Still, the company was not unwelcome, especially these days where he was unsure of where he was going in life and most of those he had once called family were either long gone or much too busy- or _leery_ , to pay him much mind. They still cared for him in their own special ways, he knew that much, but he was kidding himself if he thought things were the same or ever would be again.

He was half way through the cup of coffee, mind still at minimal function, when a bagel was deposited in front of him. He thanked her briefly with a smile before he ate his meal almost mechanically, wondering if it was worth running around town on this day, or if he was better off just sneaking back into bed.

He was startled out of his half-daze as Pru set a gentle hand on his shoulder, and sat on the edge of the table looking down at him. He rose a brow at the action and met her gaze, only to find her smiling in amusement, something that could potentially have a terrifying outcome as he had quickly learned.

“So… what does a guy who could theoretically buy anything for himself want for his Birthday?”

It was at this point he decided he most definitely should have opted for staying in bed.

“I would have rather have not been reminded of tomorrow’s date, thank you very much…” He scoffed, brushing his dampened bangs out of his eyes. “Should I ask where you came upon that information?”

“You’re Tim Drake- _Wayne_. Info’s public domain. Needn’t look far. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if it was mentioned in tomorrow’s news. Especially with that Vale woman on your case.”

To this Tim groaned and slumped further into his seat.

“Just… _great_.” He muttered, popping the last bite of cream cheese slathered bagel into his mouth.

Pru merely rolled her eyes and propped a boot up on the adjacent counter much to Tim’s chagrin.

“Back to the question at hand-“

“ _Nothing_. Absolutely nothing. I am content as is and do not want a single thing. Let’s just leave it at that.” He cut her off with utmost seriousness. “I would actually prefer to not acknowledge tomorrow as a day anything out of the ordinary.”

And as far as Tim was concerned, that was the end of that conversation.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Alas, Tim was able to freely admit that he should not have expected the woman to drop it when he had asked, for she had long since proven herself to be a stubborn woman. His lack of enthusiasm for his upcoming aging made Pru frustrated, and she made no attempt to hide it as she pestered him all throughout the night, even choosing to do so at the most inconvenient of times.

Patrol was already... _awkward_ , to say the least. He had to make a solid effort to avoid all of the capes that had taken up residence in Gotham these days. Although it was only Bruce who was actively watching him like a hawk- _well_ , perhaps Oracle as well… things had not been fine with many of the others for a while now, especially Dick and Steph, and things had _never_ been good between Damian and him.

Such efforts were tiresome, and routes had to be calculated carefully, otherwise he was out in a position for confrontation… and he just was not ready for that, not yet.

Pru had a habit of trailing just behind him, mostly out of sight, only to appear ahead at the slightest hint of danger. While he appreciated that she always had his back, that she actively made sure he would come to as little harm each night as possible, it also meant that he had to deal with her chatter, whether welcome or not.

And tonight she had been making a point to discuss the touchy subject of his birthday at the most inconvenient times and in the most… _interesting_ of ways.

Such as, asking him if he would like a new tea set at the precise moment he was gassing a runner.

Or if _hypothetically_ she bought him new curtains if he would actually keep them up… as he was narrowly avoiding a kick to the gut.

Such questions went on and on all night, with the gift suggestions getting odder as the night went on, until ultimately he had to call it a night as result of her.

The final straw had been:

“Perhaps I should get you a vibrator, to replace the stick up your ass, as clearly you need something to make you happy. I think crimson would suit you perfectly, eh Red Robin?”

Just as he had been zip tying the night’s primary target…

He had been so shocked and mind blown by the statement that the perp had slipped out of his grasp, and before he could get another solid hold, the large man had thrown him aside with a well-aimed shoulder slam, and Pru had needed to come to his rescue before he took a bullet to the face.

Looking back he could not even recall _how_ the man had reclaimed ownership of the firearm he had liberated from him earlier in the fight as he had tossed it far aside.

Needless to say, the man would not be using _any_ handguns again anytime soon with how many places his arm was broken, and Tim had been so shaken up and frustrated with the woman, and _himself_ , that he had headed straight for home after the unconscious man had been dropped into Gordon’s hands.

Pru actually apologized for that one, and he let it slide, choosing to instead forget it ever happened.

They returned to his home with few words between them, and he headed straight for bed the moment they touched down on the balcony, much to Pru’s dismay.

She was never one to give up without a fight and he knew that.

So when she had blocked his entry to his room, arms folded across her chest, and a look of hard determination set on her face, he could only sigh and give her a weary smile.

“ _Pru_ …-“

“I’m serious! Come on, it’s tradition! We come from two _very_ different backgrounds and even us assassins follow through with gift giving on holidays to those we are fond of. Give a gal a break!”

Somehow the image of several of the League’s best men and women exchanging gifts during holiday time managed to seem hilarious in his mind. He spared a laugh at their expense.

“Honestly Pru? Birthdays are… _overrated_. I can count those I have found pleasant and memorable on one hand and I have had seventeen prior to this one. They’ve just never been a really big thing for me, and this year things are tense between me and the rest of the Bat family. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they all forget about it and remember a week from now, which then of course leads to more awkward conversations, especially with Dick who will genuinely feel horrible about the slip of mind.”

“Dammit Tim just humor me for a second! Just say something, anything, and I’ll leave you alone, no matter how silly, insignificant, or crazy it may sound.”

At this he gave her an odd look and shook his head half in disbelief half amusement.

“You’ll let me crawl into bed?”

“Of course.”

“Fine then…” he muttered, pushing past her. “If you really _must_ know... I wouldn’t mind Red Hood over for dinner- actually have a _conversation_ that didn’t end with us trying to kill one another or require the other party being incarcerated as a safety precaution. Perhaps talk things out and help him understand things he’s _clearly_ been misinformed about on my end. Last thing I ever set out to do was make an enemy of him. But considering that we haven’t come across each other in nearly a year, and the last time we did actually end up in the same vicinity as one another I was stabbed in the chest and nearly blown up, that’s obviously _never_ going to happen.” He sighed. “Pru, I have everything I need here, and then some, and I’m actually pretty content with my home and present company- when of course she’s _not_ trying to get me killed by distracting me.”

Tim couldn’t help but join her when she burst into laughter.

Despite the dread he was feeling about the following morning, he slept well, and through the remainder of the night.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

July 19th started off like any other average day, but it quickly became apparent to Tim that he should have stayed in bed, shut off his phone, and locked his bedroom door.

And by locked, he meant hotwiring it to zap any intruder with non-lethal yet high powered bursts… considering that he _had_ locked it and Pru had dragged him (quite literally) out of bed for breakfast pancakes that sadly to his amusement were branded with the Red Robin insignia and involved a multitude of fruits as decoration.

Afterwards, he had been gifted with a care package from Alfred, left with her much earlier in the morning. It left him feeling sentimental enough to put the Birthday card within the box up on his mantle. He was quite sure he would be munching on scones the majority of the day, and he was not at all ashamed to admit that the bathrobe he had received looked plenty warm and comfortable, despite the snort that had sounded from the woman beside him. He took a moment to visualize the look that must have crossed the man’s face at the presence of Pru answering the door, shaved head, piercings and all. He suspected he would be receiving an inquisitory message at a later date enquiring about their relationship and the woman’s identity. He could only be thankful that she routinely kept her weaponry off person whist in his home…

The first sign that it was not to be a typical day had reared its face long after he had already left the house.

As Pru had predicted, one Vicki Vale had continued to be the bane of his existence, and had done a short article on his birthday that not only annoyed him for obvious reasons, but because she had _not_ neglected to mention that he and Tam had not been seen with one another in some time, _‘Relationship on the rocks? Cancelled engagement?’_ and had even gone on to mention that it appeared he and his family had also been distant as of late, which was not at all untrue. Ultimately it had felt like a major invasion of his privacy- more so than usual.

Making matters worse, when he finally did arrive at Wayne Enterprise- despite having returned full ownership to Bruce not too long ago, he was still required to show from time to time when something he had set in motion was having difficulties… Vale was already waiting in the building lobby, ready to jump him any chance she had gotten. He learned the hard way, very fast, that avoiding being detected whilst faking the need for crutches was a difficult feat.

When all that need be settled had been accomplished, and he had headed out the building, being incredibly careful not to run into a certain fiery red head, he ended up running straight into Tam… quite literally.

He had half expected her to slap him, perhaps even chew him out right there in the hallway, in front of everyone and anyone who happened to be in the general area after their last encounter. Instead, she had merely hugged him, wished him a Happy Birthday, and had fled just as quickly as she had appeared.

He had made it out of the building with no further confrontations to his relief, but sadly, it had been short lived.

Admittedly, he never did pay very much attention to his surroundings while out and about in his civilian persona. Yes, he noticed when he was being followed, or could tell when someone around him was about to commit a crime, but he honestly paid little mind to everyday things… people…

He had _not_ noticed that his driver was not the same man it had been prior to entering the Wayne building, not until they had gone off route, and even then he had merely assumed it was due to traffic. He had remained peacefully oblivious until the car stopped at a light on the empty street and without warning the vehicle was swarmed, figures cloaked in black entering from both sides.

He had been highly alarmed, one of his crutched brandished like a weapon, until he recognized the dress and state of the invaders. Perhaps it was sad that he relaxed and took the breach of security with a sigh, that he deemed the men- _women?_ _not_ a threat as they sat in the surrounding seats and presented him with a laptop.

It was no surprise to him at all to see Ra’s leering face as the screen came to life.

He had to resist rolling his eyes.

And tossing the device through the window…

“Young Detective!” The man drawled, moving closer to the screen. “

He frowned, glaring at the man on the display, lips pursed together in thin line.

“ _Ra’s_.”

“It was brought to my attention several weeks ago that today you would be celebrating your eighteenth birthday on this nineteenth of July. I must congratulate you on this milestone. Although I admit I was disappointed when Prudence informed me of your avoidance and utter lack of appreciation of this this day, that you were not intending to have _any_ celebration of sorts, and had even made an active effort to refuse trinkets of appreciation. Of course, I could not allow you to proceed with such nonsense, and took the liberty of sending a few of my agents your way with means to contact me, bearing gifts that you _will_ accept Timothy.”

“You can’t possibly think that I-“

“I assure you that I can. Please accept them courteously. It is distasteful to be rude Boy.”

To Tim’s mortification, three of the five ninja each presented him with a delicately wrapped package, so intricately put together that he would have felt horrible dismantling them if of course he hadn’t been so frustrated with the man on screen.

Ra’s stared at him expectantly, fingers pressed together with elbows resting on the table before him, a curious look splayed across his face.

With a sigh he reluctantly gave into demands and accepted the first package. He unwrapped it as neatly as he could, something that seemed to amuse the older man, before he lifted the lid. He unveiled a tea set unlike anything he had ever seen at the manor, clearly custom crafted for the occasion given the crimson and gold enameling and black trim, and he slid a finger along the lip of a cup with fondness.

Admittedly, it was not at all unattractive, and Ra’s likely knew that he had won _this_ battle.

But he _would_ be having words with Pru later on…

Tim said nothing as he took the second package, which he soon revealed to be an unbelievably soft scarf- of which he would _never_ admit to being highly fond of, nor being capable of pairing it with the perfect attire simply by visualizing the vast wardrobe he had stashed throughout his dwelling.

“I do hope you are enjoying yourself. You make life far more difficult than necessary sporting a never ending poker face.” The man scoffed, eyes narrowing.

Tim prolonged his annoyance by taking the third parcel none too gingerly, with a roll of his eyes, only to be surprised at its weight and nearly drop it in his haste.

A smirk curled at the corner of Ra’s mouth, and he supposed that he should not have been as shocked as he was to find a cutlass in an ornate long box wrapped in silk, blade sharpened to perfection, and most definitely genuine… very old. His mask of disinterest must have failed him at once as the man broke out into a chuckle.

“You have an appreciation for relics that has clearly never been taken advantage of. Although I highly doubt you will put it to much use, a _pity_ , I am sure you will take great pleasure in displaying it tactfully, and it could not hurt to have decoration that can dual purpose as protection in the odd chance that you have a home invasion. After all, is it not far more likely for Timothy Drake- _Wayne_ to have a functional artifact readily available than for him to wield batarangs or discs, or be capable of masterful hand to hand combat?”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After giving his thanks, and insisting that _no_ , he did _not_ need to visit the al Ghul estate- _any_ of them, for an extravagant dinner, and assuring the man that he was surely not going ‘home’ to the manor to do the same, the ninja had left him in peace sans his replacement driver.

Needless to say, Tim was exhausted by the time he finally arrived back home, and was not at all looking forward to patrolling the city after the chaos he had only barely managed to escape from. The non-driver dropped him off in front of his door as typical, and Tim truly hoped that his normal driver was unharmed and not traumatized by his sudden relocation to god only knows where.

Once through the door he tossed his crutches aside with a ragged sigh, leaning back against the shut door with relief to be home safe and sound. He kicked off his shoes and rolled his shoulders before tossing his jacket on the nearest rack and slowly making his way towards the kitchen for a well-earned, and _needed_ cup of coffee.

He was slightly alarmed to smell the scent of food escaping from behind the closed door, not because he was worried Pru would burn the house down, nor terrified of her cooking, but because he had specifically requested an ordinary day. Which would not include catering to him.

Today was _clearly_ not his day.

The chance of all normalcy was lost.

Whilst he had fully expected to see Pru scuttling back and forth across a no longer pristine kitchen, hopefully _not_ clad in any other than her normal attire, he did NOT expect to see one Jason Todd in one of his kitchen chairs, hands bound intricately and tight behind back, ankles strapped to the front legs as an added precaution, with a giant black satin bow plastered to the side of his helmet.

They would have to forgive him for his lack of enthusiasm- and brain function, as he stood gaping at the scene.

Pru paused in her activities to meet his gaze, a satisfied grin splayed across her face as she leaned against the counter next to the stove, arms folded across her chest.

It took him more than a moment to recover.

When his brain finally caught up with the severity of the situation he let out an undignified squeak of mortification.

“ _Prudence_!” He would later deny reaching such a high pitch as he stepped further into the room. “Oh my _god_ , what did you- I was _joking_! I didn’t mean…. I never said to-“

“And yet, I _did_.” She smirked, cocking at hip at him. “Happy Birthday Tim.”

Tim had no opportunity to retort as Jason’s muffled snort interrupted his struggling thought process.

“You… asked for _Me_ for your birthday?” The chill washed over Tim’s shoulders at the entertained tone the man took. “Admittedly, I’m a little creeped out, a bit touched, but mostly… mostly fucking curious and _amused_. Once I get past the manhandling, random ass abduction, and non-consensual bondage play of course. Miss ‘Hands’ was not at all for safe words.”

Tim could hear the lewd grin even with the helmet hiding it.

Hell, he could _visualize_ it…

“If you’d like, I could _gag_ him as well. Only left the helmet on as you specifically said ‘Hood’.” Pru smirked, wagging her brow.

At this point, he ultimately just wanted to curl up and die… instead, he silently counted to ten, drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly, giving himself a brief moment to recover some shattered remnant of his sanity before meeting Pru’s gaze with utmost seriousness.

“But… how would he eat then, hmm? Wouldn’t want your pasta to go to waste, you went through _soooo_ much trouble.”

Later he would laugh at how both flinched at his change of tone.

All in all it would go on to be a decently non-chaotic night despite the present company and methods used to attain him. Dinner had been delicious, and surprisingly after Jason’s helmet had been removed, and limbs freed (weaponry long since removed and hidden prior to his return home he later found out), he went on to be half-way pleasant company, although clearly confused and unnerved. The latter of which was resolved quickly after the meal when Pru broke out the wine (all three bottles of it) and admittedly Tim found himself without a care in world by the time he found himself halfway through one of them, legality be damned…

He couldn’t be sure the following morning what all had been said throughout the night, just that none of it had caused a fight to break out, any furniture to meet its doom, or him to drown himself miserably within his own bathtub.

What came at a surprise that morning was Jason’s presence lingering upon his couch, curled into a deeply slumbering ball of leather and knitted afghan, not at all restrained, and Pru’s equally surprising manifestation draped sideways across his recliner, still clutching a nearly empty bottle of red Bordeaux he was sure Ra’s had secretly supplied them with.

All in all he would have labelled this bizarre birthday as non-disastrous… if only Tam and himself had not greeted him the moment he had turned on the morning news, a quite clear photo of their surprise embrace within the Wayne building the day before plastered across the screen.

It was at this point that he had grabbed the remainder of Pru’s wine, downed it, and began contemplating the actual possibility that one Vicki Vale was in fact the literal basis of Rita Skeeter, and therefore a meta-human animagus as he settled himself on the small expanse of couch not occupied by one Red Hooded outlaw.


End file.
